Don't ever look back
by EnchantedToReadYou
Summary: Whoever wondered why Blaine slept in his car or in a tent, he told his story in one word: Runaway. On the forced journey of his, he did not think he would find someone with a very similar answer, but a very different approach to that problem. No one would expect a Kurt Hummel, especially when he was out to rob his way into their lives, and Blaine was no exception.
1. Across the Counter

**A/N: hey guys, Couldnt help myself but write this story. It´s approximately going to be 30000 words or around that and I will try to upload once a week. The picture & the idea used are from gleeddicted on tumblr. Check her out! **

**http:(Slash)(SLASH) .com(SLASH)tagged(SLASH)fake-movie-poster ! (hope you can see that) **

**I am still sorry for changing her summary a bit, but I hope she still likes it.**

Not everything is as it appears at first glance!

* * *

**Don't ever look back**

„Mum, I can explain." Blaine ducked when a vase crashed into the wall right where his head had been. "Mum, please. I didn´t choose to be gay. This is not what I wanted for myself, it simply is. Homosexuality is proven to be something people are just born with, as it is determined in the uterus."

"So this is my fault?" she screeched.

Right in that instant he knew he had chosen the exact wrong words to try and reason with her. Another object flew through the air, hitting his chest, before it landed on the floor with a clatter. He was lucky it was just a pen, since all the heavy and breakable things already gathered behind him in shards and pieces after having missed their actual aim.  
"No. This is not your fault. It is just some kind of enzyme humans have and-"  
"My enzymes have nothing to do with me having a faggot son. You choose this by yourself. You did not want this? Then stop!"

She looked like a lunatic, her nostrils flaring while her hands were searching for new things to throw only to come up empty. She breathed in heavily, turning around and around like she was in a roundabout, until suddenly it seemed as if all the energy left her body. Just like that his mother seemed to deflate when she sunk down on the chair by the table.

Blaine´s rigid pose loosened the instant he heard the first sob. The adrenaline still pumped through his body, making his heart beat rapidly and his breathing faster and him much more aware of his surroundings. For the first few minutes he just stood there, looking at the slumped form of his mother that had gone from attempting to kill him, to a crying mess. He had half of a mind to just go, get out of there before his father came, but seeing her like that, like the mother he knew she could be, he found himself unable to.

With careful places steps he made his way over to her while avoiding to walk on any shards. When he stood beside her he wanted to touch her, to show he was there and still the same as he were just minutes ago, but he knew better. His hands hovered over her shoulder instead, not feeling the warmth of her skin; only the coldness of their home and it fit tremendously in that situation.

"Mum?" He tried between her sobs. "Please don´t cry. I…I am still your son and the same person I was yesterday. If you want I won´t ever bring my boyfriend home. You won´t even notice that I am different."

She then whipped around so quickly that he barely had time to flinch and to try and pull away the arm she now had in a vice-like grip. Her sharp nails dug into his skin the more he fought against her.

"Home?" she chuckled without any trace of humor in her voice. "What home? You think I would let a faggot live under my roof? What would our neighbors say? They would think I have raised you to be a homo, that it was my fault. It was not my fault. You have chosen to shame our family."  
"No. Mum, please-"  
"You have made your bed, now lie in it."

When she let go, Blaine saw the red crescent dents her nails had left behind and he stumbled back until his back hit the wall. His mother stood up, towering over him. A blur through the curtain of his tears, but he still could make out her angry eyes.

"You are no longer my son and don´t tell anyone otherwise. No Anderson will ever admit any relationship to you when I tell them what a disgrace you are."

The sharp pain in his cheek set in before he fully grasped that he had been slapped by her. That only caused the tears to flow faster, stinging his warm skin. He cradled his cheek and only dared to look at her when he heard her gasp. As soon as he did, hope lit up inside of him, because what he saw was the mother he had thought was lost for good. But there she stood, looking at the hand that had hit him as if it was the first time she saw it and could not understand its use.

"It´s okay, Mum. Something like that can happen." He hurried to say.

Very slowly she raised her head to look at him and her shocked expression changed into one of hate again, successfully draining the little hope that had dared to bloom inside of him.

"Stop crying like a girl. Go up, pack everything you are able to in fifteen minutes and then I want you gone."

Blaine tried to grab her and beg her to take back those words, but she backed off as if he had a contagious illness she wanted to avoid getting. That was the moment he knew it was over. The evening that had started with one simple dinner where he had finally taken all his courage to say the words he always wanted to say, now came to a sudden end with him being forced to leave.  
In all the scenarios that he thought of as a possible outcome to this day, this was not one of them. Screaming, crying, disappointment or even nonchalance, but never this.

Without another try at convincing her that him being gay didn't change anything, he went upstairs to pack his bags. He was in no mindset to grab anything of importance, just a lot of warm clothes, his wallet, all of the money he found lying around and his ´Teddyduck´. When not even half of his bag was full, he heard his mother enter the room. He chose to ignore her, stuffing the bag with things, which he randomly found in his cupboard. The butterfly knife David had insisted he needed in case anyone dared to lay a finger on him like they had the night of Sadie Hawkins dance, a bag with his camping equipment, a group picture of the Warblers, his gel, the cigarettes he was supposed to hide for Nick and a single bowtie for no apparent reason. From time to time he heard her mutter something that he did not want to pay attention to. She needed to repeat his name three times before he finally gave in and looked at her.

"Blaine! You do realize that you should be grateful I let you leave before your father hears those horrible news, right? And I have to admit that hitting you was really unlady like of me."  
"Does that mean you are sorry?" Blaine asked, his voice as monotonous as he could manage to make it. His mother only shrugged.

"Not exactly."

He nodded hoisting up both bags, but when he wanted to go she stood in the doorway, obstructing his passage. In her one hand she had a stash of money, in the other she held a paper she´d obviously scribbled something on in a hurry. He raised his eyebrow, suddenly too tired to do anything.

"This is all the money we have in the house. Not much but it will probably get you to your Antonio or Rafael, or whoever you sin with." She explained.

Instead of extending her hand to give it to him, she held the paper a little too close to his face and continued speaking. "You only need to sign this paper."

"What is it?"

His mother sighed as if it was tedious to talk to him any longer than necessary. "With that you promise to never return home and never call yourself an Anderson any longer."

"Are you for real?" He gasped, looking at the messy handwriting of his mother. "Even if I signed that, it wouldn´t be of much use. It is not a contract that would have any consequences by the state when I would break my promise."

She rolled his eyes. "No, but it would give your father some closure. Or do you want him to chase you across the country until he gets the chance to beat some sense into you?"

For a second he thought she was joking, but he slowly realized that she was serious. Blaine huffed, feeling the already dried tears on his cheeks as he shoved her a little to get through the door and out. The feeling of sadness had long left his body to make place for the initial anger he thought he should have felt from the beginning onwards.

"Fine! Fine, but don´t come crawling back when you need money. This was a one time opportunity. Now get out of here. This is no longer your home."

Before he left, he turned around one last time, looking at the damage she had done today to the house she otherwise kept spot on clean. Every room had white walls, no pictures apart from the ones of his Dad with business partners or Blaine with a trophy in his hands. His mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, regarding him with her arms crossed and the paper crumbled in her fingers. The state of the house was much like her appearance now. She always wore long dresses, the ones that did not make her appear slutty, but made her look sexy at the same time. Her hair was always in a bun, but most of the black strands hung loose right now and her make- up ran down her cheeks in dark rivers.

"Was it ever a home?" He asked, before leaving her and the house behind.

There had never been a swing in their garden, never been much of his toys in his room, so he did not leave his childhood behind. There were no band posters on his wall, no porn magazines hidden and no video games in his room, so he did not leave his adolescence behind.

No, all that he saw when he looked through the windshield of his car was exactly what his eyes could grasp. A house, not a home. Not ever again.

* * *

Over a month had passed when the gel was the first thing Blaine ran out of. That was what made him decide to give himself a haircut. With nothing more than the knife of David and his rearview mirror, he started to cut a curling lock after lock until his hair was short enough for his liking. It looked decent and he was glad he had spent half of his childhood cutting the hair of his best friends Barbies and sometimes even his own hair with dull scissors. When he was finished he tried to sweep the cut hair out of his car, before he could do what he had come to do every day since he decided to run away.

That was what he told whoever asked at least. He had always been the pride and joy of his family, the one his dad could show off at business meetings, and the one they kept the trophies of on desplay in the living room for everyone to see. Who would ever believe that his mother, Amelia Anderson, the nice housewife from next door, had thrown him out to fend for himself?

No, runaway sounded better. Like he had made the active choice of leaving when they were ´not happy´ with his sexuality, as he tended to put it.

It was in the cold fall nights he spent in the tent or in his car when the truth crept out to haunt his mind. Or whenever he looked into his wallet to spot less and less money he could live off and he´d get angry at himself for not taking the money he´d been offered.

Sometimes he contemplated driving back to Westerville and beg his friends for a place to stay. Especially when the rains poured down the tent in ribbons and his teeth clattered despite layer upon layer he wore to protect himself from the cold wind.

Today was a good day though. At least as good as his life could be as a ´runaway´. The sun shone down on him through the open car door where he had parked next to the cornfield he had slept in last night. When it got too hot he took a tentative sip from his water bottle. His legs were propped up against the steering wheel and he looked down at the dashboard that had started to collect dust, doing nothing but thinking.

On days like these he tried to occupy himself with as many reasons as he could come up with on why it was a terrible idea to move to his friends. For now he had come up with the following ones:

Apart from Wes and David, you are not good enough friends with anyone to burden them with your presence

Most of those friends even reside at Dalton and it would be much to generous for their parents to just take you in when their son isn´t present

Wes parents are much to traditional to accept a homosexual living in their house for a longer period

David´s family could barely afford Dalton tuition, how could they take you in as well?

But foremost there was this one reason that overshadowed them all. It was also the reason why he couldn´t use the credit card his father had given him once:

Your father will find you.

And he couldn´t let that happen. While it was true that he was his father´s favorite son, that would all be in the past as soon as word got out that his son was one of those faggots he always joked and ranted about.

His father had always been a nice man in front of his colleagues, as he was at home. But Blaine knew that he could turn vicious when anything did not go according to his plan. For example the time when Blaine had not made it first place in sprint and instead only came in third. That evening his father, the man who always laughed and took his time to play with him despite his work load, had taken his belt and snapped it, once, then twice. Not on naked skin and not very hard, but it was enough to ensure that Blaine did anything he could to come in first the next time. And he did. He always did what he could to make his father proud, but when he failed it did not only hurt his own pride, but his body as well.

There was no way he could bear the punishment for being gay, so he had to make sure never to see his father again. He had been so naïve in believing his mother would be on his side and soothe her husband when he´d hear the news. He had seriously thought they could be one, big, slightly pretentious but mostly happy family when he let go of the burden of his biggest secret.

Blaine laughed loudly, causing a crow to fly away from the field in panic. He had been such a pathetic little boy. Only a month had passed and it felt like years to him with days stretching like the endless horizon. Years that made him grow up and realize his mistakes. There were times, like that moment right now, where he did not feel like Blaine anymore. Blaine Anderson had always been so dapper and peculiar about his presence and meek little details. He snorted when he understood that of course he wasn´t Blaine Anderson anymore.

No one was allowed to be called Anderson and be a faggot at the same time.

He spent most of the afternoon in the car, letting the little heat of the sun warm his body, as if he could charge it for the icy night that was to come. From time to time he checked his surroundings for possible thieves or farmers that could be bothered by his presence, but no one came. When the sun was about to set, he took what little water was left in the bottle to wet his cheeks, before grabbing a razor. He now was used to shaving like that, but he only did it when he was about to drive into the next best city to buy necessary groceries.

Blaine wouldn´t admit it, but his appearance was still important to him, even if it shouldn´t be. He was practically homeless and in a month or two he would probably be grateful for hair that would slightly keep parts of his face shielded from the cold weather.

As always he parked as close to the city as he could afterwards, before getting out to walk the rest of the way to the next grocery store in order to save some gas. Wherever he was, it was not a big city. The houses were small, a lot of grandmas looked out of the window to spy on the stranger that walked their streets and only very few people passed him by. On the one hand Blaine was happy with that, because that meant he did not have to walk much to find a a cheap shop, but on the other hand it meant more people who would recognize a stranger like him if anyone asked for him.

For now he tried not to think about the possibility that his father would ever look for him just to give him the beating of his life, instead he focused on what he would need for the next week and how much he could spend on it. Not much, his mind provided him.

The first shop he spotted was as small from the inside as it had seemed from the outside. When he entered the door chimed to announce his entry and cause the few people who occupied the shop to turn around and look at him. From where he stood he could easily see through the whole shop. In the left hand corner, at the back of the shop stood an elderly lady with tomatoes in her hands, who regarded him warily. It caused him to look down, taking in his clothes, trying to figure out what was wrong with them. He wore a knitted Dalton sweater under his blue rain jacket that covered the distinguishable ´D´ of the uniform and khaki pants. He looked decent, but the woman gazed at him as if he was about to mug her. Then her eyes flickered over to another occupant of the shop, causing Blaine to follow her lead.

There, over at the beverage section, stood a man who looked Blaine´s age. His pale hands were buried in a the pockets of a worn leather jacket and he seemed to notice him looking, because he turned around. He was close enough for Blaine to see the blue of his eyes and after the first shyness passed that had caused him to quickly look away, he returned his gaze only to find the man still looking back. He was beautiful, there was no doubt. His brown hair looked like it could use a shower, and the dark circles under his eyes were not flattering, but he was overall still beautiful. His red lips rose at the corners to give Blaine a smile, before he strode over. Whenever he took a step with his left leg, the hole over his shin in the tight jeans gaped wide open as if the swallow some air.

Blaine did not even realize that he still stood in the doorway of the shop, or the woman who shook her head at them. He was just thrust back into reality when a hand landed on his chest.

"Like what you see?" The man asked, his mouth close enough for Blaine to smell the cinnamon of his bubblegum. From up close he seemed even more mature but somehow Blaine doubted he was older than seventeen.

"Uhm…" Blaine stammered. "I´m Blaine."

The last time he had flirted with someone was months ago and it seemed like a whole new world when he was the one being flirted with.

"Nice name. Fitting for someone as smoking as you."

"Thanks?"

The man grinned. "How about you take me home and I show you how great I think you look?"

He came closer, pressing his body against Blaine´s. While the jacket had made him appear buff, up close he could feel the man´s bones protrude through the fabric. That did not lessen the effect he had though, especially when he felt warm breath against the sensitive skin of his ear.  
"By worshipping every inch of your body."

Blaine gulped, closing his eyes and allowing himself his fantasy for a few seconds before backing off. The man had a sultry look on his face that lasted until Blaine opened his mouth, to then turn sour.

"No. Sorry. I can´t." He forced out the words.

"You can´t?" He was asked."Erectile dysfunction or closet case? Both are very treatable by me. I´ll make it worth your time."

Humiliated by his words, Blaine just walked past the man, bumping his shoulder in the process. He was not only angry at him, but primarily at himself. Because as Blaine Anderson, he´d have rejected the offer because he would never allow any stranger to be intimate with him without any feelings involved and not before months of getting to know each other. Now, Blaine refused because he had nothing to offer, just a car and a tent at most. Nothing befitting for a beautiful man like him. Even though he still wasn´t sure if he wanted to have sex with anyone he didn´t love, but he couldn´t think that way any longer. That was Anderson attitude and he was no longer one.

The man did not say any more to him and both would only glance at each other when they knew the other wouldn´t look, before continuing their grocery shopping. Meanwhile Blaine tried to concentrate on the task at hand and he had an inner fight with his stomach that wanted to have anything Blaine´s eye saw, despite of the prize. It was almost as if it was disappointed at another week of water and bread with spread and some crackers. At last he decided to try to heat some canned soup with his camping cooker and grabbed some mouthwash, when he heard the commotion and looked up.

It was the man who had flirted with him that was now the one who was grabbed by his collar so viciously that he was almost pulled over the counter by the cashier. Instinctively Blaine got closer and listened to them scream at each other.

"Oh my." He heard the elder woman say, the moment their voices got louder. He watched her let go of the radish that hit the floor with a ´oomph´, before turning back around. By then the man had managed to free himself, but the cashier still held onto a bit of his jacket. From his angle, Blaine could see the corner of a packing protrude from under a blue shirt that was obviously meant to be hidden.

"Give it back you fucking thief. I know you have it hidden somewhere." The cashier was beet red by then, continuing to scream those exact words, while the man struggled for freedom.  
"I didn't take anything. Why would I buy some things and steal others? Let go of me!"  
"Empty your pockets. I wanna see everything you thief!"

"No!"

Once again the man was pulled halfway over the counter by meaty hands when suddenly Blaine jumped to life after feeling like watching a reality show instead of his own life. Without a plan he went up the counter and freed the man from the cashier´s grasp with one hand, before quickly grabbing the stolen good and placing it into his own basket that he shielded with his own body. The cashier did not seem to notice, his strained eyes still locked on the thief.

Blue eyes met Blaine´s, trying to understand what had happened, before he regained his stoic composure. The cashier now started to push his anger onto the next best person, who happened to be Blaine.

"What do you want? Do you two work together or something?"

Blaine took a deep breath and hoped his acting skills were enough to pull both of them through. "Actually, no. We don´t work together, we are an item. So I´d appreciate it if you would not harm my boyfriend."

"I can do whatever I want when I suspect I am being stolen from." The cashier spit. As if agreeing with him, Blaine nodded and looked at the thief.

"Honey, we don´t have anything to hide. Just empty your pockets and we can get out of here."

The man looked at him as if he had just revealed his identity as an alien and Blaine feared that his plan would go down as the most embarrassing attempt that it really was. Just then the man complied, shedding his jacket and then emptying his jeans pockets. Two pair of eyes looked skeptically at what was revealed on the counter.

Two condoms, car keys, opened packages of bubblegum, a small bottle of shampoo, and an orange pill bottle that promised deep and instant sleep for whoever took it on its etiquette, as well as a small taser.

"The shampoo bottle?"

"Not from here." The thief was quick to answer, only receiving a grunt in return.

There was no apology, just a reluctant nod and silence while he scanned Blaine´s grocery and took the cash from him. The doorbell chimed again when they left the shop hand in hand, something that the stranger had done and Blaine could not pull back after his act.

"Don´t come back!" they heard him yell before the door fell shut.

Not letting go of each other's hands, they walked around the corner before both letting out a huge sigh.

"Wouldn´t dream of coming back, asshole." The man yelled back.

Blaine only noticed how warm the strangers hand was when it was pulled away. It possibly was the kick of adrenaline that made him giddy then, but he didn´t care when he started to laugh. He didn´t even know when the last time was he had a reason to laugh, as well as he couldn´t know when the next time would be. So he ignored the confused gaze of the man and laughed until he had to bend over, holding his stomach when it started to hurt.

"It is not that funny."

"Yes, yes it is. You should have seen your face when he pulled you over the counter. I thought his head would explode any moment."

He only received a small smile for that, but it was enough to add to the stranger´s beauty. Blaine still had to take in deep breaths when he finally settled down, grateful for the brick wall he could lean against as he calmed down.

"Whatever." Boots kicked at nonexistent pebbles, while the man who had been confident minutes ago locked his gaze with the floor."I guess I have to thank you. For the Twinkies and all-. And if, you know, you need anything, I would gladly comply."

It was in his nature to politely decline, but that was exactly why he did not. "Actually there is something you could do."  
"Yeah?" The stranger came closer, this time not quite close enough to press their bodies together, but enough to make him gulp. Blaine may have misunderstood the offer, but he would not let himself be bothered by that.

"Yes. Let me stay at your place overnight. Not for- you know…uhm sex. Just a place to sleep, like your couch or something. I will be gone by morning and I will have my own food. I won´t bother you at all."

The man huffed, as if that was an atrocious thing to want. But the moment he looked up, Blaine saw vulnerability and understanding in his eyes. In that moment he knew they were both just teenagers, struggling with problems bigger than both of them could handle.

"You don´t even know my name."

"Then tell me." Blaine provided. A few seconds passed, that he spent waiting and hoping for some trust from the stranger. The man´s guarded pose loosened a bit, before he put in another bubblegum and spoke.

"Kurt."

Blaine beamed at what he thought was a fitting name for the stranger. No, not stranger.

Kurt.

"Well Kurt, I am Blaine and I am asking you very nicely for a place to stay tonight. I wouldn´t ask you if it wasn´t urgent."

"That is impossible." Kurt turned to walk away, causing Blaine to jump to attention and follow him. "Because I don´t have a place to stay either."

"What do you mean?" asked Blaine, startled. His mind provided him with the information; it was just not easy to understand.

"That means that you and I, we are both out here, utterly alone and with no place to go to. We both need to pay the price of being a runaway and it seems as if we cannot afford that."

When Kurt walked away this time, Blaine was determined to let him go. There was no use in sticking around with someone the same as him, maybe the man, the boy, really, would even drag him down. Possibly steal what little money Blaine had left to survive and then run away like he had apparently done once already. The new Blaine, just Blaine, should have let him walk away and should have spent no more thoughts on him.

But something, and he wasn´t sure if it was the small part of insanity every human contained, told him that he needed to follow him. They may have too small backs to carry the weight of their own problems, but who knew if they could hoist them together? He had to give it a try. What did he have to lose? Not what he called his life, that was for sure. Even if Kurt was not a permanent stay, the boy could provide some entertainment for a while and maybe they would be friends.

Blaine was tired of being alone.

"Kurt. Wait up!"

* * *

**Story can be found on my Tumblr: heartstringduet**

**Next you will get a glimpse of the behind the sets of the movie, so to say ;D**


	2. Challenge accepted

**A/N: hey guys. A day early. :) Just to your information: This is NOT a CrissColfer fic, they are just friends with chemistry. I just wanted to make it more Movie like, as the picture is a movie poster.  
Thanks for all the follows & favorites. I would love to hear some of your thoughts actually. So pleaaase? :))**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"So, Chris, I heard for the movie settings, you actually drove aimlessly around in America and filmed wherever Ryan Murphy wanted to."

Chris Colfer nodded, leaning back into the slightly uncomfortable seat. The interviewer, quite a newbie he thought when he watched her fidget a bit and look at her cards a bit often, gave him a shaky but encouraging smile. Laura, as she insisted he´d call her, reminded him of a lost deer and he decided to help her a bit by being extra chatty and nice.

"Right, right. One day the whole crew went out to a field trip through America and after hours and hours of pointless driving around, he finally said he found the perfect corn field for the scene."

"What was special about it?"

He smiled, crossing his legs."I actually have no idea. He just came storming into the bus me and another actor slept in and shouted ´Get up. This is it. This is our cornfield. It was made for the movie.´. Whatever he saw that we didn´t, it seemed to have worked well."

The interviewer nodded a bit too often and smiled too widely, before she realized that she needed to ask the next question to not let the interview run too long without a conversation.  
"Uhm-" A shuffle of her cards here and there, then she found the right one. "Indeed it has. One week in and ´Don't ever look back´ is predicted to be the movie of the year. Thousands of people have already seen the movie and loved it. One thing that has been mentioned in almost every critique was the incredible chemistry of you and your co-actor Darren Criss."

A small laugh escaped Chris´ lips as he nodded as if he had heard that several times. "How would you describe the situation of you two on set? A lot of your fans really want to know if the chemistry between you two is merely that of your characters Kurt and Blaine, or if there is more."

Suddenly she seemed to be very interested in his answer for what appeared to be personal reasons. She even leaned forward, capturing him with her widened eyes.

"Darren is a great actor and I consider him a close friend. Hearing that people think the characters we play have the effect they are supposed to, shows that our hard work has paid off though. That was what we were aiming for."

"So there is nothing more than friendship between you two?"

* * *

Blaine couldn´t believe that he was actually sitting in a red Chevrolet, ´A 1962 Chevrolet Corvair Monza´ as Kurt had unkindly informed him. Next to him was the boy he had helped with the theft of Twinkies, not saying a word while they listened to a Country radio station. It had taken the whole way to Kurt´s car to convince the boy to keep him some company, at least for a while. Whenever Blaine presented new arguments in favor of them being a team, he was shot down. What exactly it was that had made him change his mind , Blaine wasn't sure, but he wouldn´t pay that too much attention.

For now he was content with being alone with his thoughts. He glimpsed over to Kurt, whose eyes were fixed on what was in front of him, while an unlit cigarette dangled between his lips, courtesy of Blaine. The situation he found himself in was tricky. On the one hand he wanted to have a friend after being alone had choked the social boy more than once, on the other hand he didn´t know how to act.

There was no way he wanted to go back to the boy named Blaine Anderson, with his gel and bowties and discussions over Vogue. He just wasn´t sure if by changing his attitude, he would build this unusual friendship on a foundation of lies. That was a big reason why he was grateful that Kurt wasn´t in the mood to talk, even if country music was not the alternative Blaine would have chosen.

What _would_ the new Blaine have chosen? Rock music? Was rock badass enough? Did rock fit the image of a runaway and thus not the image of an Anderson?

Again he found himself looking over to Kurt, at the jeans that did not seem purposely ripped up close and the leather-jacket that was barely held together with mismatching stitches. But if this was what a badass runaway should look like, why did they listen to country right now, Blaine wondered. With the shake of his head he tried to clear his thoughts to have this soliloquy at a later time.

"That your car?" He was asked and forced himself to focus on his surroundings again.

There at the side of the cornfield that now appeared to be orange in the light of the setting sun, stood his own car. It was black and he probably should have known from what firm, but he didn´t. Former Blaine hadn´t really cared about cars, he had merely been happy that it looked okay. Manly, as his father would have put it.

"Yeah." Blaine undid his seatbelt and was about to get up, when he noticed that Kurt hadn´t moved an inch yet.  
"Are you not going to come too?"

Kurt still looked at the street in front of his eyes, before reluctantly raising his head to meet his gaze."What for?"

"Well for, I don´t know. We could talk and get to know each other. Maybe come up with some plan on where to go from here on. I have a tent that would barely fit two people but we could make it work until we find a better solution."

"We already have." Kurt said.

"What?" Somehow he doubted he did a good job at hiding his true nature. It was all Kurt´s fault he decided. That damn boy with this air of mystery around him and that badass behavior Blaine unsuccessfully tried to mirror.

"We already have a plan. Get your car and follow me."

Kurt had so much authority in his voice that Blaine was tempted to comply, but then he got a grip on himself. "Wait, what is _our_ plan? Why not talk this over and do it tomorrow after we know more of each other than just our names?"

"The plan is that you do what I say, because you have had the nerve to beg me to stick together. So you damn well better follow me, or you can go back to being alone. Your choice."

Kurt lit his cigarette, again with a lighter burrowed from Blaine and blew the smoke right into his face. He coughed and considered really staying away from Kurt and all he entailed. He´d find someone else he could be friends with, he told himself.

Despite of that, he finally went over to his car, checked if everything was still where he had left it and then he followed Kurt who sped ahead. Because deep inside of him, he wasn´t as sure that he would find someone else. At least not someone like Kurt and it had yet to be determined if that was a good or a bad thing.

After a short drive through the most uninhabited parts of the southern US, Blaine noticed Kurt slowing down at what seemed to be a motel straight out of a ghost town. Its gray façade threatened to give in under all the cracks and the windows were dirty and milky instead of see through. The motel sign had seen better days and in the last rays of this days sun, the block letters glowed to let anyone know that this was in fact a:_ O_EL. There was no way he would pay for something that was even worse than a night in a tent. Kurt could do whatever, he would not set a foot in that building as he was in no way suicidal.

Ten minutes later, he found himself inside the lobby having given in to the persuasion of Kurt. He sighed at being played so easily, causing Kurt flash him a knowing smile. Asshole. Definitely a good thing there was just one Kurt Hummel.

"Hey, whaddya want?" The man behind the wooden counter asked. He had long, greasy grey hair and a beard that matched its lengths. With sunken eyes he looked between the two of them.

Blaine opened his mouth to answer, but Kurt was faster. "A room for two for the night. A shower and dinner."

"Can ya pay?"

Kurt nodded, suddenly shoving Blaine a bit forward."Of course. Brad, pay with the money mum gave us."

Startled at the fake name and the mention of his mother, he pulled out his wallet."What will it be?"

"20…no 30."

"20, don´t mess with us." Kurt said.

Then he snatched the wallet out of Blaine´s hands, handed the owner his money and returned it. The key he was handed indicated that they had to get upstairs to room number 341. With no luggage, both of them made their way up, ignoring the homophobic slurs of the owner.

The inside of room 314 was as the outside had promised it would be. Small, shabby, the double bed barely able to fit both of them and the TV was ancient enough to make him doubt it would work. Kurt did not seem to think the same thing, as he sighed while throwing himself on the bed.

"A bed. Finally." Kurt sighed.

"I am honestly not sure if this is worth 20 $. My 20 $ I might add."

Kurt looked at him funnily, his expression sad before he seemed to contain himself and was back to his nonchalant and dismissive demeanor. "Well not everyone has the luxury of a tent and a car with a rooftop that works. Do you have any idea how my back aches after a night in my car?"

Blaine nodded, remembering Kurt´s car. "Then why not save my money by sleeping in the luxury that is my tent?"

"Don´t question me." He then got up and passed the room."I´ll go shower, while you order our food."

And like that he was gone, leaving Blaine wanting to punch something and preferably Kurt. The bed squeaked when he sat down and picked up the telephone that surprisingly worked. There was no point in mulling over all the reasons that screamed at him to get lost. The two hours, just two hours really, he had known Kurt, he came to understand that his need to belong was bigger than his displeasure with the irritating boy.

Blaine wasn´t stupid though. If Kurt turned out to be the asshole he came off as without more to him than that, he´d be gone for good. The voice at the other end of the line was undoubtedly the motel owner´s, who promised to be up with their dinner in twenty minutes. Then he hung up on him.

Waiting for Kurt´s return and the surprise that would be the dinner, he lay down. The ceiling had many stains for no apparent reason, but a coppery brown one was what worried him the most. He gulped at the thought of the possibility that someone had died in here and was relieved when Kurt entered the room.

Looking at him though, only dressed in his underwear, made Blaine gasp. Kurt rolled his eyes at his reaction and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What? Has your erectile dysfunction been cured by me already?"

Blaine shook his head, sitting up."No. But you-"

"You look awesome? Geez, thanks. I am almost sorry to disappoint you that this view will only be available for a limited time span. I just didn´t have a towel and need to dry before I can put my clothes back on." Kurt explained, before leaning against the wall.

There was a moment for everything, Blaine knew that, and right now was not fitting to tell a stranger he wanted to befriend that he looked like a skeleton. He just hoped he would have this moment, before Kurt really ended up as dead as he looked.

"Okay. Our dinner will be up in a few minutes. Want to get to know each other meanwhile?"

Kurt raised brow that reached up to his wet bangs that clung to his forehead. His arrogant demeanor crumbled a bit at the edges, making his casual stance into one of self-protection. "And how do you suggest we do that? You telling me when you are on your period and I tell you I don´t have one, or what?"

Blaine snorted, obviously surprising Kurt at that. "No. We could do the legendary twenty question thing. You ask me, I answer and then I ask you and you need to answer."

"Lame."Kurt feigned to yawn."There is no challenge in that. It wouldn´t make me want to tell you anything."

As if the scarce interior of the room could help, Blaine scanned his surroundings for an answer. Apparently he thought long enough to bore Kurt, who put on the same jeans he had worn before. Without knowing so, that was what triggered a new idea in Blaine´s head. A one that was more ´challenging´.

"Okay. How about we have to fulfill a dare for every answer we demand?"

Kurt cocked his head in confusion and Blaine hurried to give further details.

"For example: Whenever I ask you a question that you have no problems answering, you challenge me to do something simple. If I complete the task, you have to answer truthfully. That way we won´t step over each other's boundaries, because harder task are much more difficult to do and when we fail, we won´t get any reply."

A few seconds passed that increased the doubt in Blaine, but finally, Kurt nodded. He even had a small smile on his face that ultimately fit better than the frown he frequently wore.

"Okay, but no cheating. Easy task for easy questions, otherwise it doesn't make much sense." Again, Kurt nodded.

Both were seated on the small bed, looking at each other in the dim lighting of a lamp that flickered from time to time. Kurt still didn't wear anything on top, making it harder for Blaine to avoid looking at the sharp angles of his bones, but also at the tempting milky skin.

"Let me start." Kurt said, this time actually a question mark in his voice. Blaine gave an affirmative sound. "Since when do you live on the streets?"

That was an easy one, so Blaine said: "Put on your shirt and I will tell you."

"Why such an easy task?" Kurt asked, having put on his blue sweatshirt.

"No-uh. It´s my turn to ask. But the answer to the actual question is: A month now. Happy anniversary to me. Yay."

While Blaine smiled at his attempt to make his situation lighter, Kurt seemed almost angry. He was quick to loosen the tension by continuing. "Where are you originally from?"

"Thirty push-ups!"  
"Are you kidding? Thirty?"  
"Thirty or no answer" Kurt replied.

In the end he did his thirty push-ups, just to prove a point and waited for his answer while he tried to control his breathing.  
"I was born in Texas, but the past 4 years before running away, I lived in Ohio."

Blaine nodded, not wanting to blurt out that was from Ohio too.

"Have you ever done anything remotely against the law?"

"If you manage to guess the first letter of my second name on eight tries, I will tell you." Blaine answered.

A big part of him hoped he wouldn´t win that challenge, because telling someone who looked as badass as Kurt, he felt ashamed. Blaine had never been a big trouble maker. In fact he was the opposite with how he always thrived to please his father and be the angel his mother wanted to see. Only once he had stepped out of line and that was not something he could brag with to someone like Kurt.

"Challenge accepted. According to your girly surname, no offense, I think your second name starts with a fancy Q." Blaine shook his head.

"Well, alright. A B? For Blaine Blaine? That would actually be sort of a cool gangster name. Like Bling-Bling." Kurt looked at him, smiling when he saw the confused look on his face."No? O? T? Oh come on. P? E?"

"Only two tries left." He said, laughing at Kurt´s angry expression.

"S? Fuck you. This bet was lame."

Blaine nudged him a bit and Kurt seemed to be deep in thought. He looked at Blaine, as if he could guess his second name that way, before opening his mouth for the last try.  
"Drumroll! It is an L?"

"Ha!" Blaine pointed at him and suppressed a laugh when he was met with a sour face. "You have lost this one. Now you will never know of my criminal record."

Kurt shrugged, picking at his nails. Being used to winning, Blaine was also used to the faces of the competition that had lost. And Kurt was not a good loser.

"Hey, don´t be unfair at the next round just because you are not a good guesser, alright? My next question is actually more of a task. Ready? Write a short poem about your topic of choice. But it has to rhyme."

"Fine." Kurt stood up, grabbing a pen. "Before I do that, you need to tell me your second name."

He should have known that Kurt would do exactly that. Well, he wouldn´t be as stupid as to fall for it even if it meant, and that hurt him deeply, losing. "Forget it! I won´t make it that easy."

"Your choice. No poem from me then. And you have missed the opportunity of a lifetime, since I happen to be a great poet." Kurt said.

"Sure." He decided to continue before Kurt could close off again. He liked seeing the man joke, even though it was a little on the crude side. "Ask way."

"Okay. Why did you reject me in the store?"

Blaine blushed, remembering the way his body had turned warm under Kurt´s lustful gaze. He didn´t want him to know, because the truth would probably insult Kurt.  
"Do a headstand and tell the alphabet backwards in under 60 seconds."

Kurt nodded, a confident smirk on his lips. Then he went over to the next wall and tried to do a headstand, using the wall for support. Fortunately for Blaine, he wasn´t even able to do that, using up all his time while trying to balance his weight on his head and palms. Blaine would have laughed if it weren´t for the shirt that slipped down, revealing the fragile body that indicated the reasons for Kurt´s less than stellar performance. Having lost this challenge, Kurt returned to the bed, his teeth grinding.

Blaine hurried to move on. "I guess it´s my turn again. And I want to know what the most important object to you is right now? Like, the thing you grabbed when you ran away because you couldn´t leave it behind?"

"Pff. We can´t all be sentimental crybabies, Blaine." Kurt answered, his smile slowly returning with the insults he knew how to throw.

Blaine rolled his eyes."If the answer is that easy, just give me an easy task."

"Fine. I want you to go down to the car and grab your cigarettes, because I can´t handle a whole evening with you without nicotine to calm my nerves. And while you´re at it bring the Twinkies. I feel like a pregnant lady with a serious case of the munchies."

Well, you don´t look like one, Blaine thought before doing the task. He couldn´t suppress the disappointment when he saw Kurt´s relaxed shoulders tense once he returned. The room was filled with an awkward silence, before the loud tearing sound of Twinkie wrappings disturbed it. It was a good thing that Kurt´s mood seemed to brighten with something in his stomach.

"If you laugh about this, I am going to make sure that you won´t be able to chew solid food afterwards." Kurt swallowed the pastry, intently looking at the floor. "When I ran away, I had to be quick and it was sort of a compulsive act. So I couldn´t take much of value, or use thereof, but I grabbed this."

He held his left arm up, showing Blaine the cable that was wound around and around his arm, the isolation jacket stark red against his pale skin. Kurt must have applied it again once Blaine had been outside since he couldn´t have taken it with him to the shower.

"What sort of wire is that?" Blaine asked, ignoring his own one question only policy. Kurt didn´t seem to bother though.

"Taken from a Car."

"Why a car?"

"It just is, okay?" He snapped, glaring at Blaine. There was more to the cable than he would probably ever tell him, but for now Blaine was okay with it. He had secrets himself.

Their game was interrupted by a knock and by the revelation of the food prepared for their dinner. It was some sort of soup that Blaine took a sip of and then blenched at. Kurt was not as picky, eating the soup even though his face did nothing to hide his disgust. Blaine blushed in shame when Kurt looked at him as if he were nuts for declining a warm meal. There it was, the difference between someone who had lived on the streets for a month and someone who must have been homeless for a longer time. It made Blaine wonder if he would be the same in a few months.

They played for a while, slowly warming up to each other, laughing and joking around. Hey didn´t talk about the dinner, he just brightened Kurt´s mood in offering his portion and it worked. After an hour Blaine knew that Kurt´s favorite band was The Beatles, that his first kiss had been with a girl in kindergarten who later turned out to be an annoying overachiever, that his biggest injury had been a gaping wound caused by him accidentally stepping into a bear trap in the woods and that he was an only child. The tasks he had to fulfill to get those replies ranged from ridiculous to strenuous. He once had to lick the wall three times, avenging it by making Kurt sniff up some dust.

In exchange Blaine revealed that he was slightly superstitious, his biggest weakness was naivety, which Kurt believed in an instant, that he was still a virgin and yes, he did masturbate. For the last ones he had hoped that Kurt would not actually go next door and fake being a salesman of sextoys. Well he did, and Blaine couldn´t stop laughing at what obscene words he used while describing some of the product to a couple who actually did seem interested. They were even disappointed when he said it was a joke.

Blaine was still lying on the floor, laughing hard, when Kurt returned. With a raspy voice he answered the question, somehow not feeling as weird about admitting his hands-on performances after Kurt´s act. Both of them lay side by side on the floor, holding their stomachs, sated with the feelings of endorphins flowing through their system. Forgotten was the heaviness of some of their other topics.

"My turn, my turn." Blaine giggled, turning to Kurt whose face was suddenly so close to his own."What do you want to be when you grow up? Or have you just had a revelation of you wanting to be a sextoy salesman? Sex and approaching people seem to be your forte."  
Despite his joke, Kurt sat up, looking somber. It was like he had flipped a switch and was back to the boy he was before their questioning game. Blaine suddenly felt everything around him again, the dirty floor, the stained ceiling and the knowledge that they were not in fact friends. They were not even acquaintances yet.

"Jump out of the window for that answer."

Blaine huffed, having expected something along the line."Fine. You don´t want to answer that."

"No. And maybe we should stop. This is getting boring." Kurt then said.

"What? One question you don´t want to answer and it makes you close down again? That was not the purpose of this. Are you always going to run away when you don´t feel comfortable?"

"I said this was getting boring, so shut it."

"No." Blaine got up and stood in front of Kurt, poking him once before he flinched because he had felt a bone. "If we want to do this, you cannot treat me like your dog. I am not going to obey every order of you. And if this is your plan of how to get rid of me and to go back to being a lonely criminal, it seems to be working."

It felt like the first time Kurt looked at him. Really looked at him, without lust or disdain. He seemed surprised at what he saw and Blaine wondered why. He followed him when he sat back down on the bed again, running his fingers through the now dried and clean hair.

"I need a cigarette for this." He said and wordlessly Blaine gave him one. While Kurt spoke he did not once look at him, his eyes fixated on the door.

"Don´t assume I will tell you my whole sob story now. I actually don´t really need you. I was fine before you came along." He paused, inhaling once and twice. "It´s just that it would feel wrong abandoning such a puppy like you. Probably would go to hell for that if you died." Another pause. "I´ve been living on the streets for almost a year now. There were months I thought I would starve or freeze and there was the summer I actually found myself wanting to end it all. Living on the streets does that to you." The cigarette landed on the floor, adding to its dirty appearance instead of disturbing anything. No one commented on it when Blaine placed his hand on Kurt´s one, but he saw the corner of Kurt´s mouth twitch. Then he continued telling his story, or at least the parts he wanted to reveal.

"I was not always…who I am now. You would probably laugh at my old me. I was into the whole gay musical things and baking and fashion and stuff. Oh god. Someone like the old me would never have survived out here, so I changed. I became this and there is no way I could go back. But I am not sure I want that to happen to you. When we met today, I thought you were insane for helping me and then even demanding to stick together. I still think you are by the way. No one I know would have followed me."

"Everyone deserves a chance." Blaine interrupted.

"Well yeah. Just not people like me."

They were silent and Kurt did not seem to have any more to say. Blaine gave his hand a squeeze.

"What now? Where do we go from here?"

Kurt finally looked at him, not hiding his puzzlement. "You still wanna go with me?" He raised one eye-brow when Blaine nodded. "Even if I remain the mean old witch you met today? Don´t think I will suddenly turn into a fluff ball."

"I wouldn´t dare dream of it."

"I will still smoke away all your cigarettes."

Blaine laughed. "Go ahead, I don´t smoke."

"I am a thief. And I will only leech on your money."

He felt the hand under his threaten to pull away, so he only held on tighter. Blaine did not understand why Kurt would list all of his flaws in order to get Blaine to leave until he saw his eyes. In those blue eyes he saw the emotions displayed as if the iris was a clear sea he could see the bottom of. Kurt was afraid. He was afraid to get attached just to lose again. A feeling that Blaine had never considered having before he lost his family. He knew how badly commitment hurt if it was one-sided. And he couldn't let that happen to Kurt. Whatever he did, Blaine would figure out a way to deal with it. He knew that they couldn´t go on with Kurt´s ways, stealing was no option for him and he wasn´t sure if Kurt sold his body. That had to stop and Blaine would see to that one problem after another. What he would not do was leave Kurt under any circumstances.

In order to do that he had to set his own sake on the line, but Anderson or not, Blaine had always won the things he had set his mind on. He would help Kurt and himself.

"Kurt, stop. I know you are not flawless, because neither am I. Please believe me when I say that I will never let you be alone again. Ever."

Kurt did not seem to trust his words, but he didn't fight them either and that was enough for now. His rigid stance didn´t loose for the rest of the night, but he didn´t pull his hand away.

For the night they shared a bed, their backs pressed together to fit into the tiny space. Even at that Blaine could feel Kurt´s sharp shoulder blades and decided to make sure they´d at least had something to eat in the future, if nothing else.

"What are our plans for this week?"

As hoped, Kurt gave a real answer this time."We´re going to visit a friend of my family who lives in New Orleans and take it from there."

"Why?" Blaine didn´t move, afraid anything would break the fragile state they were in."What are we trying to do? Find jobs and someplace to stay there?"

"No. We´re looking for someone I have lost."

"And then-?"  
Kurt cleared his throat."Then we´ll find our home."

There was no way Kurt could see with his back to him, but Blaine nodded. His eyes were now closed, ready to dream of the promise Kurt´s voice held. He was just about to drift off, when he heard him say something. It made both of them laugh and loosen their hard muscles a bit.

"Don´t try anything, Blaine. No one gets away with turning me down. Even though I would understand if you´d have trouble resisting my hot piece of ass."

In response, Blaine delivered a light kick to the legs behind his own after they had calmed down.

"Goodnight, pervert."  
"Goodnight, virgin Mary."

* * *

**Did you like it? I always like to change some minor things in fic stereotypes.**

**Reviews are always appreciated :) Thanks for reading.**


	3. The maze

**A/N: I love writing this. I really do. Have it all figured out and I promise very rude Kurt will soon be a bit softer towards Blaine. :) Thanks for all the readers. I hope some more of you leave their thoughts here for me to read. **

* * *

**Chapter 3**

They had been driving all day, just stopping to share some food and to try to get the camping cooker to do its work. Blaine learned quickly that Kurt´s patience was non-existent when he kicked the device all over the place. They gave up after that, partly because they weren´t sure the thing would run after being manhandled and partly because Blaine was afraid Kurt would turn to murder if they gave it another shot.

The late afternoon found them finally crossing the border to Texas. To this date Blaine had never been there, but the wasteland they crossed did not really appeal to him anyway. He had hoped for hotter days once they were here, but the fall was just as relentless here as it had been anywhere else.

Without a warning Kurt stopped his car in front of a gas station after hours of mindless driving, almost causing Blaine to crash right into him. There was the spark of excitement in his eyes as Kurt exited and saw the tiny gap between their cars. Blaine wasn´t as amused, rubbing his chest where the seatbelt had cut into at his sudden stop.

"You couldn´t have warned me? It´s not like we can afford to have a broken car on top of our situation."

Kurt only snickered, inhaling smoke from his cigarette and leaning against his car. "Now where is the fun in that?"

"Next time, you better warn me." Blaine said lamely.

There was no point in fighting him, especially not when Blaine was trying to build their trust towards each other. Either way, Kurt wanted to have the last word and he would.

"Yes, Mum." Kurt saluted and threw away his partly smoked cigarette. "Now please give me some money so I can buy Mummy her cigarettes."

Blaine rolled his eyes, but pulled his wallet out nonetheless. There was the raised eyebrow of Kurt that said ´really?´ when he gave him $15 but he ignored it.

"Just cheap food that stuffs our stomachs and doesn´t expire quickly and your cigarettes if you´re lucky enough to get it without an ID."

"Oh, I will."

With that said Kurt was gone, walking very slowly to the shop and causing Blaine ´s eyes to be drawn to his swaying hips. For someone that skinny he still had enough fat left to have a nicely shaped butt.

Huffing, he grabbed his small bag with bathroom utensils and made his way over to the small house next to the station. Blaine avoided looking to closely at his reflection, afraid of what he would see. There was a big chance that he fitted into the ill kept place he was currently in and he was more than afraid of that.

Freshly shaven and finally with brushed teeth, he returned to his car ten minutes later, noticing Kurt´s was still empty. He contemplated following him inside in case he was once again in the tight grip of an angry cashier, but before he could do that he saw Kurt exit the shop. The see-through bag he held in his hands seemed to hold various things that Blaine doubted were healthy or very clever concerning their state, but he couldn´t even find it in himself to be surprised or angry. He was way past that point since he met Kurt.

"Blaine." Kurt hissed lowly, capturing his attention.  
"What?"

"Blaine-"

There was a long and awkward moment until Blaine finally saw the movement of Kurt´s head in the dim light that indicated that he should finally get into the car. Blaine hesitated, wondering why and wanting to ask just that. Turned out he couldn´t when Kurt´s stiff steps quickened as the first yell echoed through the night.

"Hey. Hey kid, you forgot to pay for that."

"Fuck. Just go, Blaine. Go, go, go , go go." Kurt screamed, before he ended up doing a mad dash to his car, almost hitting his head on the other car door after an impressively high jump onto his seat.

Meanwhile Blaine fumbled with his keys and was inside his own car, right before a fist slammed into his window. The bag landed on Kurt´s backseat, while his wheels squeaked on the asphalt and then the red car in front of Blaine´s finally set into motion. Through the opened window, they heard the cashier yell profanities at them, unsuccessfully running after their cars until he was finally just the size of a fly in Blaine´s rearview mirror. Torn between the rush of adrenalin in his veins, making him feel giddy and invincible and the anger he felt towards Kurt, he smiled and frowned at the same time.  
He remembered his brother always wanting to capture such a moment, telling him to ´frile´ as Cooper would call the weird combination of expressions, camera in his hands and taking thousands of pictures. But the reminder of another person that had left him was just what it took to wipe away the smile and pick up the pace. Unlike Kurt he turned on his warning lights before coming to a halt in the middle of practically nowhere.

He was fuming by the time Kurt leisurely made his way over to his car , his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his skin turned pale over his knuckles. He let Kurt knock a few times against the window, before he finally let it slide down to the hilt. In the corner of his eye he watched Kurt lean down, resting his chin on his opened window, but Blaine didn´t turn to look at him. Kurt´s voice wasn´t the casual timber that he was used to, it was tense and probing when he spoke.

"Hey, uhm. Why´d we stop?"

Blaine chose not to answer, until Kurt grew angrier with every second. Patience really wasn´t his forte.

"Would you be so kind and fucking answer my damn question?"

"Why would you steal again?" Blaine asked calmly.

He turned his head to look at Kurt whose eyebrows revealed his confusion.

"Why would I-?" There was the noise of gravel and the loud slam of the passenger door, before Kurt settled beside him. He then rested his feet right in front of Blaine´s eyes on the dashboard

"I tell you why I would steal again. Because we need it. There is no way your lousy pennies will get us through more than two months."  
"It would If you didn´t have to spend it on cigarettes and candy."

Kurt huffed, lighting said cancer stick to provoke him."It wouldn´t. I know because I was you."

"Oh there it is again."  
"There is what?"

"Your whole ´I am so much wiser than thou, because _I was you_´ speech. Please, just spare me. The money I have will easily last for a few more months." Blaine spat, finally looking at Kurt whose smirk was slightly crooked. He felt the heat of the cigarette where it was suddenly placed very closely to his forearm.

"Yeah you are so right, Blainey-boy. Your money is enough for you. Not for us. So you better learn to deal with me stealing, because you know what I really do? Fucking provide for us."

The car was suddenly very quiet while both of them glared at each other. Despite the plan to change, to man up, Blaine was the first to give in. He knew when to admit that he was wrong, even though those words would never leave his mouth.

"Just don´t steal. We will find something to earn money with when we reach this friend of yours. If he has a guitar I could sing on the boulevard or something. ´ ."

Another silent episode that was only broken by the radio Kurt turned on. Then he scanned him and seemed as if he expected Blaine to understand what he was supposed to do. Blaine didn´t, causing Kurt to toll his eyes.

"Sing." Kurt said, sounding annoyed that he had to spell it out for him. "If you´re any good, I may think about it."

Always down for a challenge that involved showing off his talents, he quipped along to the song on the radio.

"…_I´ve got the month of May.  
I´d guess you´d say, what can make me feel this way._

_My girl. Talking bout my girl, my girl._

_I´ve got so much honey, the bees envy me.  
I´ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees."_

Throughout the song, Kurt´s facial expression didn´t really change to reveal any of his thoughts, but somehow his smirk looked softer and his eyes less jaded. When the song ended, he did too.

"Not bad. Really not bad. Maybe it´s enough to woo some teenage girls who go for the penniless guitar player routine. Maybe some Bieber hair and you´d be irresistible to the brainless."

"Not sure if that is a compliment."

Kurt laughed. "Take what you get."

And Blaine did, grinning like a fool over the backhanded compliment. There were still some Katy Perry songs he hadn´t let the world hear.

* * *

Slowly, making sure not to stumble over the strings which ran from the tent to the ground they were anchored to, Blaine made the lasts checks. All the while he was being watched by Kurt who sat on top of his hood, his feet dangling in time with the song playing on his crappy radio.

"Hmm. Uhuh. Hmm." Blaine said, crouching down now and then.

His mind screamed at him that he should stop, because he was making an idiot out of himself, but it was too late. Kurt seemed to have come to the same conclusion, letting out a loud, barking laugh.

"Come on, you don´t have any idea whatsoever about camping, do you? Oh, Blainey, what have you done without me all the time? Who did you pay to build up you tent?"

"No one." Blaine said smiling. "I was just testing you. Making sure you also know how to build up a tent."

"Right."

Kurt hopped down from his car, gracefully landing on his feet and then proceeded to not as gracefully crawl into the small green tent. The outer walls caved out, colorful words were being uttered, before Kurt let out a final ´ooph´ and the crickets returned to singing their songs because it was finally silent again.

Meanwhile Blaine stayed outside for a few more minutes, taking sips of his coke and thinking. There was no way to deny that today had just been another test for his patience.

A test with spikes and mines and all the emotional baggage he thought they had left back at the motel. They hadn´t, but Blaine still had some band aids left he was in dire need of if Kurt remained his stoic, selfish and assholey self. He didn´t quite understand how such a guy had build up his tent perfectly.  
Not that his foul behavior would prevent him from doing that, but after a long conversation in which Kurt had snapped and whined about not wanting to sleep ´outside with the bugs´, the perfectly standing tent had come as a surprise. Blaine himself was rather mediocre in anything regarding camping. He had been content when it had resembled something like a tent to be honest.

In full size it fit both of them and a warm glow came from inside the green walls, inviting Blaine who slowly felt the cold creep through his thin clothes. With the promise of a full night sleep, he entered the tent on his hands and knees. Kurt occupied the right side, his body cocooned in Blaine´s sleeping bag, doing what he did best. Blaine coughed when a wave of smoke hit him and he quenched his eyes shut when the sting caused them to water.

"Kurt, fuck. Do you have to do it in here? It feels like I am in one lobe of your lungs. There is a high chance that you breathe more smoke than oxygen per day with the amount you´re inhaling."

Kurt just chuckled. He took a provokingly long drag, before squishing the cigarette out on the soil outside of the tent. Then he laid back down, his blue eyes gazing up at the ceiling above.

"Could be. Not that I cared."

Blaine stopped coughing, sending him a concerned gaze that went unnoticed. His mouth opened and closed like that of a guppy and he was relieved of the burden of talking since Kurt did.

"Camping was one of the things me and…the guy I lived with did every summer. I was never font of bugs and the hard ground, but I never told him." Blaine saw Kurt fumble with the cigarette box and stopped him by taking his hands. For a short second he felt Kurt´s bodyheat slice through the icy skin of his hands, then it was gone just as quickly.

It was the first story Kurt had shared with him without the reward of a fulfilled dare and it motivated Blaine to tell something of himself. He was actually happy, feeling his resolve towards Kurt crumble as he shared his memory.  
"My father and me never went camping. I used the camping set once with my friends. It was never something that would fit for our family, you know. We were kind of uptight."

"Who would have guessed?" They both laughed.

"But I would always be the only one he let on his grill. Even my big brother wasn´t allowed to flip some burgers. Just me and my father. It´s probably not that special, but you know, I always felt like I was."

Kurt hummed, clearly no longer comfortable with talking. While elaborating, Blaine had seen the hurt flash in his expressive eyes, but he wanted to push them through that wall that threatened to stand between them ever becoming friends. Apparently they didn´t see eye to eye on that subject. Kurt was once again the maze of mystery and Blaine the trusting puppy lost in it.

It was then that Blaine noticed he was without a sleeping bag, because his own was occupied with Kurt. His eyebrows narrowed as he scanned the small space for something to cover himself with for the night just to come up empty-handed.

"Is that my sleeping bag you are using?" Blaine asked, willing his voice to be calm when he himself was anything but.

"Yeah."

"Yeah? What do you mean, yeah?"

Kurt looked at him, trade-mark smirk set in place."Just, yeah. It´s very comfy by the way."

Every attempt at calmness was in vain by then. There was a weird pinch in his hands, as if they begged him to finally hit and smash.

"I know." He fumed.

"Oh, you do?"

"Yes, because it is my own fucking sleeping bag. And we either share or you are getting your skinny ass out of there."

For an instant, Kurt´s eyes widened as he stared at Blaine and he looked surprised. Then he put his face back on and acted again.

"No. I was here first. I build up the tent, I got us food and I am the only one of us with a solid plan. I get to keep the bag for the night." He said and turned his back to Blaine.

There was just the thin material of the tent between Blaine and the cold ground and without an antagonist who was willing to budge, the anger left him and with it the heat. So he started to shiver and crept closer to the warming material of the sleeping bag and thus to the body in it.

He wanted to hate Kurt, he really did. It was just so hard to do when he was reminded of what had made him a bitch. Blaine still had a hard time believing that he had survived a full month without a home, so how could he grasp what it meant for Kurt after a whole year? Wouldn't he be the same? Wouldn´t he grasp any chance of a warm night after a year of lonely, cold ones? No, he couldn´t hate him.

He was afraid he would turn into Kurt.

"Someone has to keep awake for the night, in case someone tries to hurt or mug us." Kurt said after long minutes of absolute silence. He still didn´t turn to look at Blaine.

"Why would they hurt us?"

"We are homeless Blaine. No one wants us around."

Blaine got quiet after that, only the chattering of his teeth providing an answer. There was no trace of malice in Kurt´s voice this time when he said: "You stay awake for the first three hours. Then you wake me and we switch."

"Okay." He said, being sure that he was much too cold to find sleep. When he tried to scooch even closer, Kurt slid further away. It was the last time Blaine tried that night.

"Good night." Came the clipped words from Kurt, then the lights were turned off.

"Can I at least have your jacket?"

"No."

* * *

They stood in line behind a drag queen in a leo print dress with hot pink heels, who easily towered over Blaine´s small build. The bouncer seemed to have turned away another couple of girls, who screeched obscenities into the night, before taking the cue to leave.

Once again, Blaine looked down at himself, scrutinizing his clothes and then Kurt´s, before shaking his head at the madness that was this night´s plan. There was no way they would even get in there, not smelling like too much deodorant that they had to use instead of a shower that morning, dressed in their best attire, that was not close to being chic and not with the bouncer that seemed to turn people away on a whim. No way this plan was going to work.

What plan, Blaine wasn´t even sure himself. Kurt had just dropped the bomb when they had had breakfast, Twinkies and soda, that morning. ´This will be Dallas´, he had said ´No motel will be cheap enough to not drown all of our money in one night. So we need a place to stay. And the tent or your car are no option. Well, you are lucky that you have one Kurt Hummel to call your…companion, because I have a solid plan.´

Yep, now here they were, trying to get into a LGBT bar without fake ID´s, hoping Kurt would be able to fulfill his masterplan, whatever the hell it was. Blaine had an idea of what the plan could entail, but he shoved it back into the dark corners of his mind until it was time to deal with them.

The queue moved forward, making them the next ones who would be analyzed after the drag queen.

"Don´t talk. Let me handle it. And give me 30 bucks." Kurt hissed, pinching the arm his one was hooked into. It was all part of Kurt´s act.

"30? Are you nuts? We need that money."

The drag queen chatted lively with the bouncer, her voice loud over their quiet ones.

"Trust me. After tonight, we will have more than enough money when my plan works."

Blaine looked at him, his mouth open. Then he handed the money over, reluctantly letting go after a tug of war. "What the fuck is your plan. I swear, if it involves stealing –"

"Next. ID?" The bouncer interrupted him.

He was clad in a sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscles when he flexed them. His mouth open he chewed his pink gum, scanning them before letting his eyes linger on Blaine.

"Uhm. I-"  
Kurt shushed Blaine with another pinch, before he let go of his arm. In stupor, he watched as Kurt approached the man that seemed twice his size, because he was skin and bones beneath his tight ripped gray shirt. Milky skin was visible more than the parts that were covered and Blaine saw his muscles move when he leaned closer, pressing the frail body against the meaty one. After that Blaine was invisible to the bouncer who enjoyed the slow grinding against him and openly groped Kurt in front of everyone. Then Kurt gave Blaine a wink and he vanished inside the blaring club. As Blaine turned to follow, he was held up by a strong hand on his neck.

"You better watch your slut of a boyfriend, before it´s too late."

Blaine gulped, but didn´t dare to look back after he was shoved through the open doors of the club. Loud music encased him, pacing his quick heartbeat in time with the bass while strobe lights flickered the world on and off. He couldn´t make out Kurt in the mass of grinding bodies, but he felt too overwhelmed to care.

And just like that, Blaine had started his first night in a gay bar.

* * *

Ahh. Next chapter. Gay bar. I know written by thousand others, but always fun. And yeah I don´t give anything away but that I like twists ;D


	4. Tina Killer

**A/N: Hey guys, School reeeeeeeeeeally sucks right now and I feel so drained most of the time. So I really try to get to write on everything ;(( Anyway whoever reads that story: ENJOY ;D**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Blaine learned exactly two things in the first few minutes of being a gay bar occupant. The first one was: if transvestite women were chicken, he was their chick. They flocked around him, petting him, asking him questions and complimenting him on his adorableness. And he had to admit, as long as they didn´t touch his hair that he finally had put in some gel again, he felt like himself again, he was soaking the attention in like a dry sponge. Too long had the weeks without affection been. Without the touch of someone who cared about him or his friends to joke with. More than once the tone of their voices reminded him of his mother, who would probably rather die than hear him say that comparison to her face.

The second thing was, while the women obstructed his view, he could clearly see one thing through the dancing crowd. Kurt was popular. And not in the way Blaine was with the colorfully dressed transvestites surrounding him, but in the way where one man after another danced with Kurt. All of them were clearly older and sometimes very touchyfeely, using the chance to slip their fingers between the rips of Kurt´s outfit and over his pale skin. If Kurt cared how cheap or queasy they looked, or how old the ones dancing with him were, he didn´t show. There was a permanent smile on his face that by all means could not look real to anyone without intoxication or troubles with sight. Nonetheless, Blaine found it to be better looking than the condescending smirk or the permanent scowl he would wear otherwise.

"Is that your boyfriend, honey?" Margaret, a huge transvestite woman with flaming orange hair asked him, pointing one golden nail in Kurt´s direction.  
Now all of the women had started bickering about Kurt, poking Blaine and cheering him on to dance. It was all they focused on and suddenly the attention didn´t feel as good any more.

"No." He was quick to reply, shushing the laughs."He´s no one."

"Oh, apparently he is someone to you. And the rest of this bar. You should definitely go over." Sandy said.

"Hey, leave our honey alone. He is far too good for someone who throws himself around so much, isn´t that true?"

"Preach." The woman always by Nancy´s side agreed.

Blaine smiled at their attempt of savoring his innocence but couldn´t help but have a moment of doubt. Was Kurt really only here to have fun, get some while Blaine had to watch and wait for this ´brilliant plan´ to happen, just to realize that there was no actual plan? Was he really being lead on?

No!

Or maybe that was exactly what it was.

"Shush. Our honey clearly has a different perspective of our dancing queen here. And that is exactly why we won´t stop bothering him until he dances with him." He heard another woman whose name he had forgotten say. Then someone started to chant, lowly then louder until even other guests chimed in.

"Dance. With. Him. - . Dance. With. Him. - . Dance. With. Him."

"Okay." Blaine finally interrupted them. "One song. And each of you will have to buy me a drink if he refuses."

They nodded, practically shoving him from the stool he sat on at the bar and let out some whooping sounds. People dancing turned to look at him, making his ears warm of the ridiculousness and the embarrassment of it all. Only the promise of free drinks made it easier to approach Kurt.  
Right now he was still dancing with another guy, leaning against him while the man´s hands were buried in the rip that was right under Kurt´s butt pockets. The man seemed to be twice their age, but he was relatively okay looking if it weren´t for the lusting gaze he held the much younger boy captured in. His eyes were what made Blaine´s stomach churn and his fists clench.  
He hesitated, thinking about turning around and admitting defeat without even trying, but the words screamed over the bass were what made him stop in his tracks.  
"You have such a beautiful body, so thin, and you dance like a fucking stripper. You are a slut. Such a perfect slut."

Blaine gulped, looking at the rips he could see on some patches behind the thin layer of skin. While he had no doubt about Kurt´s beauty, his skinny body, formed by months of homelessness, was not something he took pleasure in looking at. Because at some point, the feeling of real hunger would not be something Blaine had to imagine. Kurt did not seem to mind the compliments or the insults.

Maybe because he was used to it.

Bile rose in his throat, making his voice too low on the first try, but when he screamed again, he finally got the attention of both men on him.  
"I said it is my turn to dance with him."

The man chuckled, pulling Kurt closer so he was pressed against his front. "Cute. Grow up and maybe he´ll consider giving you some of his time."

"No. Let go of him you sick bastard." Fists balled at his side he stepped closer to them. There was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn´t ever regret hitting him if it came to that.

"He your bitch?"  
Kurt turned around in his arms, looking at Blaine with misunderstanding. In the blinding light of the ceiling he had almost missed the minuscule shake of Kurt´s head. Not that it stopped him from yanking him away from groping hands.

"Hey." The man yelled, but Blaine way quick, pulling Kurt through the masses of dancing bodies until they were far enough away to evade searching eyes.

It didn´t take long for Kurt to return to his usual hateful self, shrugging Blaine´s hands of and fixing him with his glare. His whole body was rigid and his stance screamed at other people to keep their distances, but Blaine was deaf to that. With a fluid motion, he let one hand rest on Kurt´s hip and the other at his lower back, pulling him closer. The song was neither slow, nor fast paced making the dancing even more awkward than it already was dancing alone while Kurt was paralyzed in his arms. It took the first verse to finally loosen Kurt enough for him to participate, but his voice still sounded angry when he yelled over the music.  
"What the fuck are you doing?"

Trying to squish his own trickle of annoyance, he tried to at least enjoy their dancing while it lasted. The body under his hands felt warm and though foreign, it resembled something that felt like home. Or at least the very watered down version he was forced to use now.

"Dancing with you."

"Yeah, I can see that John Travolta. The question is why?"

Blaine shrugged, giggling because his head felt funny after the spin and one beer.

"It´s not like we have what one would call a fun life, so why not make the best of it?" He asked.

Kurt only rolled his eyes, but kept dancing, finally putting his hands on Blaine´s shoulders. There was this fleeting moment when Blaine felt their gazes linger and the want of his body overwhelming his thoughts. This second after, when he looked down on Kurt´s lips and wanted, wanted, wanted. The minute their bodies were close enough to touch, hip to hip. They didn´t act on it and no one lost a word about this. After all, Blaine had his reasons for not actually leaning in to do what both of them wanted to.

His reason was the knowledge that he was just doing this because he was lonely. Because Kurt was there, had been there for three days and even though he had been coldhearted and mean, he had never left Blaine or judged him. Kurt was the warm body of someone he wanted to be liked by, just not in that way. He didn´t actually feel anything more than the hopeless need to be loved and Kurt was who he projected his needs onto.

As for Kurt´s reason behind wanting and not wanting the kiss, he could not be sure. In his perception, Kurt was a free spirit, someone for a one-night stand but nothing that ever involved feelings. Maybe Kurt knew that Blaine wasn´t the right partner for that. Maybe Blaine made it all up in his head. Thinking about that hurt his pride though, so he dismissed it. The point was, they didn´t do more than dance through half a song before it went downhill.

"Seems like your ´fun´ had officially ruined any chances of my plan working." Kurt then said, looking at the guys and girls surrounding them. One guy passed them, pedo mustache lifting with the smile he gave Kurt´s ass he obviously mistook for his eyes or something. In a swift moment Blaine swirled them around, shooting the guy a warning gaze before turning back around.

"See! He could have been _it_."

Blaine raised his eyebrow questioningly. "He could have been what? Your father? One guy of the Village Peoples? I thought he resembled the cowboy alright."

One look at Kurt´s face made it clear how not funny he thought this situation was. There was the telltale sign of the icequeen act he put on whenever he felt comfortable, but this time Blaine knew he had actually done something to seriously piss him off.

"If you don´t want in on the plan, just fucking leave. It´s not like you are in any way helpful."

He stopped dancing, forcing Blaine to do the same. "How could I if you don´t even seem to have one? Admit it!"

"Admit what?" Kurt asked, gracefully sidestepping a drunken girl that stumbled over the dance floor.

"Admit you are just here to find someone who can do exactly what you asked me to when we first met. Someone to have a one night stand with."

The music suddenly turned off. It took a second or two to then realize it actually hadn´t, Kurt had just shoved him against someone else who yelled loudly in protest.

"What the fuck, Kurt!"  
Beer ran down the back of his shirt, making the fabric cling to him like a second skin and smell like the bar he was in.  
"Get fucking lost. Now!" Kurt screamed, about to shove him again if Blaine hadn´t backed off when he did.

"You have lost your damn mind!"

A string of curses followed him when Blaine made his way through the crowd again, but he ignored Kurt. He had half a mind to just go back and punch some sense into him and finally shut him up. Instead he went back to his now vacated seat at the bar, watching the laughter and cheer fade away when they took in his expression. If it weren´t for the music that kept on playing, he´d have been sure he was caught in a bad teenage love movie. Only in teenage love movies one of the main characters would not be a gay man dancing around with another man twice his age as if nothing had happened.

"You owe me drinks, ladies." He said, falling into another seat someone had stood up from for him. Then he was encased in a avalanche of sweaty, sweet smelling arms and bodies, drowning in the feeling of compassion he had so vividly craved.

"Poor Blainey. Our friend Tina Killer will make everything a little better. Mark, one Tina for our friend. No, make it two."

Margaret waved two of her two golden painted fingers around, still hugging Blaine to her soft body with the other arm. Tina Killer turned out to be Tequila, something Blaine had never drunk since he had been the golden boy for his father. Well, screw his father. Screw Kurt. Actually someone else would screw Kurt.

The first shot was drowned the instant it was set on the counter, burning down his throat like a trail of liquefied fire. He gagged a bit, coughing in hope to get rid of the taste.

"Honey, that is not how you drink a Tina." Nancy said and rubbed his back. "STL!"

"STL?"

"Salt. Tina. Lemon. You have yet so much to learn."

And learn he did. By the third Tina he felt like a pro, laughing as he wiped away some of the lemon juice from his cheek. The alcohol still burned on the way down, but at least it made no attempt to climb back up or taste like hell with the additional flavors complimenting it.

His head felt like it was held constantly under water surface, merrily making his vision sway from side to side. He hadn´t felt that good since he ran away, all his worries drowned in the alcohol and finally shutting up inside his mind. On the dance floor, he happily danced as if his life depended on it, not noticing how many people he accidentally hit with his arms. The women on the floor with him giggled when he spun around or told the whole club how he wanted to live here. Of course, alcohol and endless dancing with spins did not mix well, forcing him to go outside to get some fresh air.

When he opened the door to the club, it felt like someone had bitchslapped him right in the face. Blaine stumbled further outside, holding his throbbing head with one hand, the other trying to find the cigarettes inside of his pockets. There had never been a time he thought he needed a cigarette, but now, with everything happening, he decided it was now or never.

His fingers brushed against the smooth packet he had once again wanted to hide from the chain-smoking monster named Kurt and he pulled out one cancer stick. He didn´t have a lighter, but after three tries of slurs and stumbly words, he finally had gotten the needed fire.

Cigarette hanging limp between his lips, he stood there, leaning against the wall. Five minutes went by like that, the mechanics of smoking lost on Blaine´s intoxicated mind. He just held it there until it had finally burnt down, then he spit it out. He smiled at his own bravery of mastering the art of smoking and was about to go back inside for another Tina, when he saw Kurt with another man, walking out of the club with heir arms intertwined. There was no way to be certain of the foreign man´s age in his condition, but to Blaine he looked like a leathery dinosaur, leeching on the one person Blaine had left. That was exactly why Blaine saw it as his task to step in and save Kurt. Or make Kurt´s night worse if he actually wanted a quick fuck.

"Hey. Old man, what are you doing with my Kurt?"  
The panicked look on Kurt´s face was lost to Blaine as he continued."Get your hands off him."

"And who are you?" The man asked, approaching Blaine. This felt bizarrely familiar.

"Blaine Anderson! And Kurt is my friend."

"Blaine, please." Kurt said, then he turned to the dinosaur grandpa. Blaine giggled at his own thoughts while Kurt continued talking."Give us a sec."

The confirmative sound the man made in the back of his throat made him appear even rougher and caused Blaine to laugh loudly. He couldn´t quite grasp how Kurt could stay so serious and that was why he asked him this question several times while he was dragged away by him. They stopped at the next corner and when the grip of Kurt´s hand loosened, Blaine rubbed his hurting arm, still smiling.

"What are we doing here?" He asked.

"No, the real question is, what the fuck are you trying to do? And how much money of ours have you spent on alcohol?"  
Blaine smiled and stumbled a bit because he had thought the wall was right behind him only to be met by air. "On Tina."

"On …what? Who is Tina?"

"Tina is delicious."

"Listen. Whatever it is you are on, you have got to sober up a bit and fucking listen. Blaine, listen!" Kurt yelled. His hands felt warm on Blaine´s cheeks when he cupped them.

"I am."

"Listen!"  
"I fucking am!" Blaine replied and it was true. His thoughts were a bit clearer once he put focus on them and his surroundings. Kurt grounded him a bit and he felt the side effects of the liquor kick in a little harder than he preferred.

"Good, because this is the only time I will ever tell you the plan. And no, it is not me wanting to get nailed you stupid idiot!" Kurt said and grabbed Blaine´s ass. Blaine yelped, before he realized that Kurt had just fished a cigarette out of his pocket."I will go home with that fucker and –"  
"No. Are you nuts? You could at least do better than him." Blaine cut in.

That only made Kurt smile ruefully and somehow, with the alcohol in his system, Blaine felt like he saw the pain and the fragileness of Kurt for the first time. It hit harder than the Tinas did.

"Sure. But I said you should listen. I won´t sleep with him. Hell, I´d rather cut of my penis than sleep with the mummy there."  
"Then what-?"  
Kurt shook his head. "Remember the sleeping pills I had with me? Well, they are not for me. I will put them in his drink before he can even so much as kiss me. And once he is out I will grab whatever I can carry and we´ll be gone before the sun is up. Do you understand? Look at him, he has a golden tooth. He has money. And we need money."

"We need money-" He repeated, watching ash fall on the ground.

"Yes, we do. So you will go to your car and go to sleep. Once I have grabbed some things I will come to you and we´ll get the hell out of this town before the mummy reawakens. Got it?"

Blaine thought about it, admittedly catching his mind drifting off once or twice. He didn´t like it one bit. And he didn´t quite trust Kurt yet. What if this was just a whole big set-up to cover his slutty behavior. No, Blaine wasn´t allowed to think like that.

Kurt was the only one left. The one he had said he would protect and prevent him from stealing. How had he gotten to the point of actually being happy of money to come in, even if it was by this? In his state he was in no position to sort out difficult feelings, really.

"Yes, understood."

For a long time Kurt was staring at him in silence, but the dinosaur had to call him and he looked away. Or at least ´twink´ was what made Kurt turn his head and yell back he´d be there soon.

"Okay. I have to go. We´ll see each other tomorrow. And don´t you dare use my sleeping bag!"

Before Kurt turned to go, Blaine managed to grab his arm.

"No, I won´t get you- let you get… uhm. You can´t go alone."

"Blaine, what do you want? I am not a saint like you. I am a big, bad boy who is about to do this plan for the thousandth time. And look at him, he won´t be poor and broken just because I pickpocket a little."

When Blaine shook his head, the world tilted a bit in its axes and the only stable thing to hold onto was Kurt, who stiffened under the embrace. Point was, Kurt was warm and familiar and Blaine honestly did not manage to stand up straight, so he continued clinging to him.

"You don´t get it, Kurty." Blaine said into Kurt's ripped shirt. "aI am sorry for what I said and I will protect you."

"Your fire breath really could knock someone out cold. He wouldn´t even need my pills." Kurt then laughed, which offended Blaine quite a bit.

"Hey! I mean it. You need procetion…protection."

"No. You will go to sleep in your car now and let me do my work. We´ll talk about it when you are not as drunk."

"I will follow you and him with my car then."

Blaine found himself held away by Kurt´s arms, forced to look at him. His face gave away his anger and distress. "No, you won´t."

"Watch me!"

"Blaine you fucking won´t fol-"  
"I will! You don´t get to have a say over me." He finally screamed, not caring who heard. There was the moment he thought Kurt would hit him, so he cowered a bit. But eventually Kurt only looked at him before turning on his heel to rush back to the man.

Blaine followed him, barely catching up before they could get into the fancy car next to them. He growled when the dinosaur man rolled his eye at him and muttered something about him being a brat.  
"We are a package deal." His voice was slow and careful not to give away his drunken state, even though he already had. "No me, no Kurt in your bed. And you won´t ever get the chance of the both of us warming your bed again, honey."

The man laughed, pulling Blaine closer by his collar."Is that so? Kurt?"

Blaine gave him a pleading look and only got a cold glare in return.

"Yes. I wanted to surprise you at home with him, but he got impatient." With a swift but soft touch he grabbed the man´s hand away from Blaine and led him to the driver side door.

Blaine didn´t miss the hand that trailed down Kurt´s back and stayed on his ass. It made the urge to vomit all the greater, but he tried to hold it in. There was no way the man was interested in him and vomit on his car seat would not brighten his chances. With Kurt riding shotgun, he was forced to take the backseat and watch a pale hand wander up and down the driver´s leg.

He wanted to reach out and grab it before it could touch the apparent bulge in dinosaur´s pants, but Kurt gave him a warning glare. It caused him to rethink the situation once more. Maybe he had been right from the beginning. Maybe Kurt was just someone who digged elder man and didn´t want Blaine to know. He pinched himself for thinking Kurt as a slut once more, before shutting his eyes for the rest of the drive. He so needed a Tina right now.

"To a beautiful evening, with a beautiful man." Blaine made a face. More like ´to a evening where I steal everything of worth from you, with you ugly fuck sleeping through it´. The man did not seem to notice, but he got kicked by Kurt under the table for it.

"Is that your porn stash?" Kurt then asked, looking at the shelf behind the dinosaur, who then stupidly turned around to look himself. Kurt used the minute the slip the pill he had smashed into tinier bits beforehand, into the glass of the oblivious man.

"What? Oh, yeah. Want to watch any to get into it?"

Blaine shook his head, trying not to stare at the glass where the pill hadn´t quite dissolved yet. He literally waited for the plan to fail, for them to end up being tied up to the bedpost or worse, killed. A glimpse to Kurt told him that he was the only one worried if the expression was anything to go by.

"Sure. Show some to me and I´ll choose."

With that said, he dragged him up from his chair and over to the shelf with the DVDs. by the time they got back with a porn named: ´Hole-y Hell´ the pill was gone. It was hard to hide the smile when the man finally took a sip and then emptied the glass with a large gulp.  
Blaine watched with fascination as it kicked in, made him drowsy and his words slurred while he continued to touch Kurt as if it was his given right. Half an hour and several attempts of trying to explain his tiredness later the man was out cold, face lying on the table top in the kitchen.

Literally two seconds later, Kurt got up from the lap he had sat in and slipped the golden ring and the watch of his arm and into his pocket. Where otherwise sat the impassive constant-smirk was now a genuinely happy smile on Kurt´s lips that made Blaine´s stomach churn. There was no doubt that Kurt was enjoying this.

"Come on. Grab whatever you can carry. Anything small and valuable is now ours." Kurt said, not bothering to whisper.

He rounded the room, opening drawers and throwing what was inside out on the floor. For a while Blaine just sat there, watching the calculated way he seemed to do anything in and the graceful movements he made. It was then he realized that he had only been one of the pawns in Kurt´s life. He hadn´t been approached because Kurt liked him. He´d have been the poor guy who would wake up to this mess and less things in his house while Kurt was long gone. Somehow that made him feel worse about himself and defiantly he decided to not take part in any of this. Instead he walked over to the couch and lay down, facing the backrest as to not remain watching Kurt.

"Hey, what are you doing? Get up and help me, I can´t carry everything!"

"What does it look like? I will sleep here. Goodnight."

There was a short pause, then Kurt finally answered. "You have got to be kidding me! Do you know what happens when he wakes up? This is fucking dangerous."

"I will be gone before that." Blaine closed his eyes. "And do you really think I will let the opportunity to sleep on a soft sofa slide, when you were the one making me sleep on the cold ground in my own tent? When I am drunk and cold and damn lonely? You know what, go fuck off Kurt!"

The cushion at the end of the sofa dipped when Kurt sat down. Blaine had almost fallen asleep when he got a reply. "Fine. I will wake you up before he has a chance to beat us to a pulp, but then you will help me carry some things to our cars, o-fucking-kay? And in case the plan doesn´t work out, you will never complain again and finally do what I say."

"Whatever."

The weight on the cushion lifted and a few seconds later the lights went out. He listened as Kurt lay down on the smaller sofa next to his and the loud snores coming from the kitchen. Somehow the plan hadn't gone as planned.

* * *

**Blaine got a backbone now, thank god. Kurt is no slut. Does ANYONE ever call Tequila Tina Killer? i made that up, but everyone SHOULD :DDD **

**Reviews would make me very happy...**


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